Most of the time I think I’m a realist.
I recognize that while I am dwindling in girth, Hollywood would still cast me as “the best friend.”
I know that no matter who runs for president, we’re not going to love him/her all the time because all presidents make some bad decisions, and people who want to run for president aren’t my kind of people.
But then I watched the series finales of “Gilmore Girls” last night and it hit me amidst some blurry eyes that – “Good Golly, the unsinkable Molly” – I’m a bit of a romanticist.
(And, yes, I recognize that realist and romanticist aren’t in the same personality realm, but I try not to overload myself with adjectives.)
Most of you probably don’t watch “Gilmore Girls.” Maybe, like me, you saw it once and were immediately overwhelmed by its rapid banter, pop culture references and overall perkiness.
While most of us do not spew witty remarks at the speed of the Gilmore gals – trust me – it becomes endearing, if not envious. And the pop culture references are little rewards for folks like me who get them … most of the time.
As for the perkiness, it was a welcome respite from the conflict-laden land we call primetime. For much of the Gilmore girls’ run, nothing really went wrong. And it was still entertaining.
But the real reason to tune in was Stars Hollow, Connecticut – a fictitious small town (population: 9,973) complete with a town square, a local diner and colorful characters.
In Stars Hollow, everyone knows and cares about each other. Everyone has a say in local issues, like whether or not to light the town gazebo for a spring carnival. (‘Cause there’s a celebration for every minor holiday.) You can walk to all the local shops. You can leave your doors unlocked.
Yet, despite the rural charm of this town, it’s only a half hour from great shopping and city life.
This is where I want to live. (Or so I tell myself.) I want to live in a tight-knit community with lots and lots of events. I want to be in the world; not at the population center of it. But I don’t want to drive down any dirt roads to get there. And I don’t want to be too far from a Target.
Technically, Stars Hollow is based on Washington Depot, Connecticut. But despite Lorelai’s mystical relationship with snow, I’d rather head West to warmer climates (and preferably a seaport village). But beggars can’t be choosers. And I ain’t too proud to beg.
So I implore you all to find me my own Stars Hollow, where we can all live in semi-ignorant bliss.
Of course, the realist in me says that such towns no longer exist.
But sometimes you just have to put on your rose-colored sunglasses and believe. (And/or tune into ABC Family for “Gilmore Girls” reruns.)
What’s your dream locale?
